Page 58 of Taking a Chance on Charlevoix
“No, no that's not what I mean.” She pushed back her hair. Was she sweating along her hairline? “Right now we all have our own bedroom. But I don't know if any of us will end up living in that house. For right, we’re doing Facetime calls to work things out.”
“So you don't want to design a closet in case the next person doesn't like the design?”
Now that Seth put it that way, her reservations did seem foolish. She’d designed the closet in the condo and they worked out fine. Although she hadn't had many visitors, when people saw them, they usually liked them.
So she spent a few minutes listing the specialized areas she found helpful in a closet.” And I realize that's a lot,” she said in closing. “But that's the way I like it.”
“You’ve got some great ideas here.” Seth sounded like he was scribbling away. “And you really know what you want.”
Didn’t she just wish? She wanted Charlevoix. She wanted a change of season. And she wanted to be with her family. Her wish list stopped right there. “Sometimes I do.” Why was she having this conversation with a total stranger? Dropping her head into her hands, she suddenly felt very tired and very hungry.
“Well listen, I'm not going to take up your time. I'll have the closet company do a sketch. You can look it over and I’ll take it from there.”
At least the conversation had moved away from that humiliating beginning. Bathrooms could be expensive. She knew that. “As far as the bathrooms go, whatever my sisters want will be fine with me.”
“Got it. Look, thank you for your time. I know you're busy on your relocation. Transferring here and everything involved must be very time consuming. I appreciate you giving me your time.” The guy sounded rattled…and repetitive. He probably couldn't wait to get off the phone. “I don't want to come up with something that people don't like. That’s disappointing and expensive.”
He meant well and her embarrassment grew. “I appreciate your concern for the details.” Maybe she’d talk to Sam. See what her thoughts were on this. She did not want to have all this workdone and then have her sisters not like it. “I'm going to call for a joint Facetime call to get this settled.”
“Probably a good idea. Should I be involved in that?”
“No.” The word exploded, loud and decisive. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “I mean, why waste your time? I'll get in touch with Aunt Cate…,” she stressed the name, “…and my sisters. We'll give you a list for both the bedroom closet and the bathroom.”
“Whatever you say.” The poor man sounded exhausted.
“Thank you for your call.” She’d worn the poor man out.
“Right. And again, thank you for your time.” He was being overly polite. The smile in his voice wasn't lost on her. Right. He probably would have a good laugh after he hung up.
After she'd ended the call, she got up from the chair on wobbly legs and bumped into a saucepan. One swift kick sent it into the bottom of a cupboard, where it left a dent.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SAMANTHA
Sam was hiding in one of the guest rooms, waiting for the family call. When Frank Elliott, her realtor, called about an evening showing, she couldn't say no. Her house had been on the market for a couple of weeks. So far there were no offers. Had her hopes been too high? He’d suggested cleaning up some of her crammed shelves and putting away more personal items. The rooms Kurt had emptied weren’t very appealing. Frank had a resource that staged homes and she’d asked him to fill in the gaps. The expense was reasonable and if it would bring a sale, totally worth it. Her family room was looking comfortable again with a mohair throw rug and Indian patterned blankets folded neatly on the soft leather furniture.
So she’d told Frank no problem about the showing but that she’d be in one of the guest rooms for a family call. No way could she join the Facetime meeting while sitting at a Starbucks. Renovations demanded a lot more input than she’d expected. And of course Aunt Cate was trying to take everyone into consideration. She’d always been good about that.
On Sam’s last trip to Sunnycrest, they'd gone over the sketches. But they hadn’t drilled down on the details. A bathroom presented a lot of options, and so did closets.Everything had to be ordered before work could begin. None of them wanted a room to be half finished, while they waited for a delivery. Working around the crew was going to be more challenging than anyone had expected. She was eager to get up to Charlevoix to help out and she knew Marlowe felt the same.
But since Sam didn't know what was going on with Josh, living in Charlevoix might be uncomfortable. At this point she didn't know what to think. Instead of ignoring his calls, she’d told him nicely that she needed a break. Those had been hard words to say but he seemed to understand. During the dinner at his house, it had been painfully obvious that his kids weren’t ready for him to date. The fact that Sam and Josh had known each other in high school was lost on them.
Hunkered down in the guest room, she waited for the call. Frank had been great and told her not to worry. He was probably as eager as she was to sell the house. Properties were moving quickly in this market. Right now the beautiful home in Oak Brook held painful memories, and Sam wanted to move on.
As she sat at her green desk with the leather top, the phone rang. The blue plastic holder vibrated and she clicked into the call. Her aunt’s picture came up first. Izzy was seated next to her, the squirming baby in her arms. Seeing Sam’s face on the phone, Holly began babbling away. They were seated at the kitchen table. Marlowe clicked into the call next.
“Plenty of time for that little girl to talk on the phone,” Marlowe called out. “Remember how we hogged the phone when we were teenagers?”
“Don't remind me.” Izzy rolled her eyes. Sam hoped that in due time her sister would be settled with some nice man to help her raise Holly. But right now that opportunity seemed a long way off. Her sister’s shop and the baby took up all her time.
“The realtor is showing someone my house tonight,” Sam told her family. “So I'm going to keep my voice low. Maybe theywon't come into this room.” This guest room was her favorite. She'd had it painted moss green and the subdued but soothing color was reflected in her Mary Cassatt and Monet posters. Sam and Kurt had discovered the desk on a Sunday drive to a small Illinois town. That trip had been such a happy excursion with Kurt that weekend. Although he didn’t care much for the feminine green desk with gilded accents and a matching chair, they’d packed the pieces into their SUV and brought it home.
Home. Back then, she had no inkling that this house and its contents would one day be divided. But she wouldn't think about that now. No matter what, the desk was coming with her to Charlevoix.
“Let's run through the details that we want in the bedrooms.” Aunt Cate began to rally the troops and Sam quickly left her memories behind. “I want you to think about those bathrooms, girls. I don't know if it makes a lot of sense to have every bathroom be different and the same thing goes for the closets. With that approach, the bedrooms might look piecemeal if you girls decide to sell this place some day.”
